While those newly elected to work on Capitol Hill may take the lead next year in the debate about revamping the political system, 2018's salient changes were almost entirely made by the voters themselves.
The fight for control of Congress was the dominant story in the midterm election, but a record number of state and local ballot initiatives produced a wave of important if under-heralded shifts in the how democracy gets practiced after this year.
Redistricting: Most significantly, the people of Colorado, Michigan, Missouri and Utah decided in November to take congressional district mapmaking out of the hands of their state legislatures and turn the bulk of the work over to independent commissions. Ohioans made a similar decision in May.
Now a dozen states, which are currently assigned 32 percent of the House seats, will see partisan power plays significantly neutralized in the next decade's redistricting process, which kicks off after the 2020 census.
Coloradans decided they want an independent panel to draw their state legislative boundaries, as well.
Lobbying and Ethics: Voters in a handful of states approved measures to limit the reach of special interests by limiting campaign money and lobbying.
Floridians set some of the tightest rules in the nation on the "revolving door" between public service and advocacy, prohibiting state and local officials from lobbying their former departments, agencies or governing bodies for six years after leaving office.
Missourians compelled a tightening of rules for lobbyists in Springfield and set new campaign finance limits for state legislative candidates.
New Mexicans voted to create a state ethics commission. So did North Dakotans, who also banned foreign donations to candidates in the state and set tightened rules for lobbying and campaign financing in Bismarck. A similar catch-all initiative was rejected next door in South Dakota, but voters there did decide to limit out-of-state donations in future ballot measure campaigns.
In Arizona, by contrast, voters resoundingly approved ending the partisan independence of the state's political watchdog agency, the Clean Elections Commission.
Campaign Finance: Ballot questions aiming to confront the role of money in politics did well.
Massachusetts approved creation of a state commission to press for a constitutional amendment that would restore limits on corporate, union and non-profit political spending by effectively overturning the Supreme Court's 2010 Citizens United decision.
And voters in five cities – New York, Baltimore, Denver, St. Louis and Portland, Ore. – set contribution limits in local races or agreed to provide public matching funds to municipal candidates.
Voting Rights: Floridians voted to restore voting rights for all convicted felons, except murderers and sex offenders, once they're out of prison. But Louisianans voted to bar felons from seeking elected office for five years after they do their time.
Maryland and Michigan voters decided to permit Election Day registration at polling places. Michiganders also approved no-excuse absentee voting, straight-party balloting and automatic voter registration for people when they do business with the secretary of state (unless they opt out). Nevadans embraced automatic voter registration for everyone dealing with the state's Department of Motor Vehicles.
But not all the successful ballot initiatives were in the cause of making it easier to vote. Solid majorities in both Arkansas and North Carolina, for example, decided to require voters to show a valid photo ID before casting ballots. And Montana voters decided by two-to-one, a to restrict absentee voting.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.